


Odd Attractions

by pinkandwhitesprinkles



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Attempted Murder, Gore, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5837710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkandwhitesprinkles/pseuds/pinkandwhitesprinkles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper meets Bill for the first time at the police station. Then again in the forest.<br/>It's not long before they're seeing each other constantly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my girlfriend who indulges in my trecurous AUs

Dipper meets Bill for the first time on a Saturday. It’s way too late for him to be up in his mother's opinion. That’s just one of the many perks about spending the summers away from home he guesses. It’s not anything exciting really. The lights are fluorescent and seem to tick off and on like it was on its last leg. There was a soft hum of chatter as people moved around Dipper, only acknowledging him through the movement. All in all, it was almost like it was just the them. 

Dipper. Bill. 

And the iron bars between them. 

The bars between them manage to snap Dipper out of his thoughts. Only to make him realize he had been staring. 

Not the way Bill’s hazel eyes seem to linger, or the half baked smile that's doesn’t seem to reach his further than his lips.

It’s all the realization Dipper needs to make him remember why he’s standing there.  
Bill had been brought in a few hours ago off the streets by his Great Uncle Stan. He stormed into the building with a grasp on Bill’s arm, muttering something about disturbing the piece before shoving him in the holding cell in the back of the station. 

His Great Uncle Ford had been the one to toss Dipper the cell keys, telling him that they couldn’t legally hold Bill here any longer and that he should be the one to let him go. Dipper was no officer like his Uncles. Yet. It would be only a matter of time before he went graduated High School. After that Ford promised that he could move up here with them. He would be provided with a job as an officer while he studied law at the community college near by. 

Dipper remembers the keys are still in his hand and goes to unlock the door. They jingle and clink against the metal lock and other keys. The door squeaks awfully in protest as he slides it aside. 

“You’re free to go.”

Bill’s up off the bench and on his feet as fast as is to be expected. What’s unexpected is that he stops in the doorway, instead of passing Dipper. He stops and looks the other right in the eyes.

Dipper holds his breath, like breathing will break whatever kind of moment this is. 

“Come here often?”

Bill has a shit eating grin on his face, showing he knows exactly how pathetic that would sound if it were to come from anyone else. It leaves Dipper at a loss for words. His boastable vocabulary rendered useless by one extraordinarily awful pickup line.

An airy laugh comes from Bill at Dipper’s expense. Before he has a chance to react, Bill steps to the side and brushes right past him. Dipper must’ve taken to long to turn around because by the time he does, Bill is already leaving out the front door.

“You okay, kid?” Stan calls from his desk.

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Dipper gives him a reassuring smile and walks back towards the office area of the station. “I’m fine.” He hangs the keys back on their proper hook on the wall and heads over to Stan. He's slumped over his desk, finishing some most likely procrastinated on paperwork.  
It almost seems like he’s grateful for the excuse to look away from his paperwork and up at his nephew.

“That piece of shit didn't say anything to you, did he?” 

Dipper shakes his head.

“Good. I hope he's just passing through.” And with that he's back to his paperwork, leaving Dipper with his thoughts again. He doesn’t bother Stan with any more of his questions. Instead, he heads over to Ford’s private office- an office saved for the commissioner of the police force. 

“Ford?”

“Yes?” Ford, unlike his twin, does not look up from his work when his nephew speaks. 

“Who was that?” 

His uncle raises a single eyebrow at the question, not understand what Dipper is asking about. It takes him a moment before to come to an understanding of who he’s asking about. 

“Oh! Well you know...” He goes back to the papers on his desk, shuffling a few around. “Stan’s report-” He mumbles something about a possibility of it not being filed yet, knowing Stan. “Ah. Here it is. His report should have that information.” Ford pulls down his glasses that had been propped up on top of his head.

“Alright. We have one, William Cipher. Age 20. Not from around here. Apparently he had a licenced issued by the state of California. Probably just a college kid on vacation.” He hums as he continues to list off the facts. “Apparently, Stan picked him up at the mall and filed his reason for detainment as disturbing the peace. That’s all that’s here.” The glance Ford gives Dipper from behind his glasses could be filed under ‘concerned’. “Dipper are you feeling alright?”

Dipper just frowns, a little put off by the repeating question. “Yeah I feel fine. Stan asked the same thing, do I look okay?” 

Ford shakes his head as part of his response, stoic expression not giving away refusing to reveal what’s churning in that mind of his. It comes from the career field he’s chosen to live. 

“You look tired.” With his seemingly permanent under eye bags and consistent unshaved stubble, Dipper never really resembled the paragon of health. “Look, I know you volunteered to help file paperwork, but why don’t you take the night off? Your sister told Stan that she would most likely be at the Northwests all weekend, so the shack is empty. Go home. Enjoy some free time.” His neutral expression falls away as he gives his nephew a smile. 

The promise of a quiet night alone clears away any lingering weirdness that seemed to cling to him after his encounter with Bill. 

“Thanks, Great Uncle Ford.” His smile matches his uncles.

Ford is just happy to see Dipper happy. 

“Of course. Do you want a ride home?”

“I’ll walk.” 

“Alright. Stay safe. It’s already past dark. Keep your cell phone on and text Stan or I the moment you get back.”

Dipper takes the protectiveness as caring and nods in agreement.

“See you at home.” He gives Ford and then Stan a quick goodbye before heading out into the night. 

One step outside of that door, Dipper discovers that it’s a perfect summer night. The wind whips by quickly and leaves his already messy hair tousled in its wake. The sky above him is cluttered with thin clouds and stars even of less intensity manage to dot the navy expanse. Thanks to the geography humidity was bordering nonexistence. 

It’s nights like these that lift his mood and bring a lovely remedy to the consistent teenage funk that seemed to follow him ever since the start of high school. To describe it, it would fall under the category of electric bordering on alluring. Something that was calling him to an adventure. 

Once his feet have carried him almost a block away from the station, Dipper ducks into an alley and slings his backpack off of his shoulders. He’s unzipped the main pouch, immediately greeted by several spiral notebooks, borrowed books from both the library and his Great Uncle Ford, There’s also a handful of pens that show a chewing habit that he never grew out of. He reaches for none of these items. 

His fingers trace the back seam of the bag until he finds a thin zipper. It’s hidden away, sewn and tucked behind two flaps of fabric. The zipper itself is only about the width of number 2 pencil graphite. Once unzipped the false backing falls away and Dipper is able to pull out his real notebook. A leather bound journal that’s already filled with sticky-notes, dog ears, and collected samples. 

It’s nights like these that Dipper likes to take his own journal and without much thought of consequence, disappear into the Gravity Falls forest. 

That’s exactly what Dipper does, so lost in his own enticed excitement that there’s no realization that he’s being watched by two hazel eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

For Dipper Pines the house his uncles Ford and Stan live in have become his home away from home. The forest surrounding the shack becoming a second home. Ever since his first trip up to Oregon he’s been memorising the woods. Much to his uncles dismay he spends almost all his free time now in the woods.

Everyone who lives in Gravity Falls knows about the strangeness that lurks in the woods. It’s due to the strangeness that no one ever enters. When his uncle's first discovered that Dipper was heading into the woods they pulled him aside and had a family talk about why those woods were so dangerous.

Dipper knew Ford and Stan were lying when they told him they’re just worried about the usual dangers, like getting lost, and bears. Dipper tries to prod and push them both for more information, but neither of them crack. Instead they insisted that the late night television was getting to his pre-teen brain. Eventually he promises them that he would never wander into the woods again. He’s pretty sure they knew he was lying too.

That conversation that had taken place a little under 6 years ago and did little to deter him from sneaking off into the woods. Instead he finds himself climbing out windows or sneaking down dark hallways way past midnight. 

On nights like this, he would simply walk to the woods instead of walking home. Stan wouldn’t be home until around 11. Ford would follow up between a half an hour to an hour later. It gave Dipper about two hours to travel through the woods and make it back home with enough time to make dinner for the three of them. 

He’s only a few yards into the woods before the moon has been swallowed completely by the coniferous forest. The stars disappear and take with them any remaining light. Dipper has to reach his arm around his backpack and grab ahold of his flashlight. It’s not super powerful and emits a rather dull yellow light, but it's best he could get his hands on. With the flashlight in one hand and his journal safely tucked under his other arm Dipper descends further into the forest. 

\---  
He’s not fully aware of how much time has passed until the third chill runs up his arms.  
The pleasant summer dusk has faded into a chilly Oregon night. The journal, now clutched in his ink covered hands, has been filled with a few more pages. While he didn’t come across any creatures, he has discovered a new bioluminescent tree that had started to sprout. It’s leaves seemed to be chewed off and due to the lack of other glowing trees, he doesn’t think it’ll last much longer. 

Dipper is made fully aware that  
Dipper presses the watch and stops. 

He only has about twenty minutes to make it back to the shack before Stan gets home. 

 

“Shit.” 

Even worse, there's dirt of his hands and maybe even his face. He’s completely certain that there's pine needles in his hair and his knee is all scrapped up from the fall he had taken over his own feet. 

With a quickened pace he turns, heading back in the direction of the shack. If he keeps up this pace he should be able to reach the shack in time. 

The light on his flashlight flickers once, and then flickers again. 

“No no no. Don’t do this to me.” 

Skillfully Dipper whacks the bottom of the flashlight with the base of his palm. For a moment the flickering stops and it seems to work but, his celebratory attitude is cut short as the light flickers out for good. 

This is okay.  
He can work with this, after all he’s has backups. His backpack comes off his shoulders and he places it on the ground, not caring if it picks up any dirt or collect any of those spiky, dried up Oregon grape leaves. He fumbles in the dark as he digs out the new batteries. Soon enough his eyes have adjusted and he can unscrew the bottom of his flashlight easily. The new ones go in, he screws back on the lid and, nothing. 

“Fuck.”

He must have put them in wrong. A few more attempts of rearranging the batteries and still the flashlight remains dark. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth, trying to come up with reason the light would no longer work. 

“Maybe it’s the bulb? Or the batteries I grabbed were bad?”

“Maybe It was Aliens.”

The voice knocks him from his kneeling position to flat on his ass. For a moment his pulse skyrockets and he can’t find where that voice came from. Before he can start questioning his sanity, Bill’s form finally comes into few, he’s actually only a few feet from Dipper. 

“Holy shit.”

“Wow Kid. Do you always curse this much?”

“I’m no kid.”

Laughter is the response he gets in return.  
It’s not an unpleasant laugh and under any circumstances it wouldn’t be so creepy. “What are you doing wandering around the woods at night?” His eyes finally start to adjust to the little amount of light. He can see the other leaning up against something, a dead tree maybe?

“I could just as easily ask you the same thing Pines.” Bill sounds amused and at ease like they’re having this conversation in the comfort of regular circumstances. Not in the dark, alone, deep in the woods. 

“At least I was walking around with a flashlight. Not slinking around in the dark.”

Without response Bill promptly flicks on his cell phone's flashlight, right into Dipper’s eyes. “Did you really just,” Dipper rubs his eyes, trying to massage the white dots out of his vision. He’s answered with more of that not unpleasant laugh as a hand comes into his vision.

“Common, I’ll walk you home.”

He forgoes the offered hand and gets up on his own, brushing the dirt off his khakis before slinging his bag back on his shoulders. “You don’t know where I live.”

“To the contrary.” Bill doesn’t provide any more than that and starts walking in the direction of the Shack.

The two walk in relative silence, only bickering when it comes to which direction is the quickest way to get back. 

Much to his surprise, Bill abandons the argument rather quickly, letting Dipper discover what paths have been changed or blocked off during the months he was away. 

As they come to a rather large fallen tree Dipper finally gives up and let’s Bill take the lead. Only after another silence does he ask him how he could possibly know these paths so well, being a tourist and all.

“I live here.”

“What?”

On of Bill’s eyebrows raise up. “I live here.” His walk slows until they’ve stopped. He turns to face Dipper, thankfully the light of his phone pointed down towards the ground. “I moved here last winter. The new Northwest apartments on the edge of town.” 

The answer was satisfying enough. 

“You come into the forest often? Seem to know your way around.”

“Sure.”

He notices Bill eyeing the well worn journal in his hands. “You don’t.”

“I do too.”  
“I’ve never seen you before.”

“I don’t live in town.” Dipper scuffs the ground with his shoe. “Yet.”

“Oh.”

The conversation teters off and they start to walk again. Soon they come to the edge of the forest and past it, the lights of the shack shine. The stanmobile is parked outside. 

“Damnit.” 

Bill stops right before they reach the edge. “I’m sure you can make it the rest of the way by yourself.”

Dipper isn’t sure if he finds the smug tone endearing or irritating. Either way it grates on his nerves. Still, he swallows down his pride. 

“Thanks, probably would’ve gotten sick if I had been wondering around in the cold for another hour.”

“A cold should be the least of your worries.” Dipper finds he's missing the annoying tone as Bill grows serious. “You shouldn’t be out here kid-”

“Not a kid.”

“Hasn’t anyone told you, the woods are a dangerous place?”

Dipper scoffs. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He looks back towards the shack, wondering how he can sneak in with Stan already home. Maybe through the attic window? “Speaking of, what were you doing?”

He turns to Bill but the other has already gone. Dipper scans the shadows for any sign of his light but he can’t find any. “Nevermind.”

He readjusts the bag on his shoulders and heads out of the woods.  
\---  
Bill watches as Dipper Pines scales the side of his house and fumbles through the triangularly shaped window. 

He slides his hand through his black hair. A grimace coming over his face as he pulls his hand away and finds blood. 

“Gross.”

Without much care he wipes his hand off on a nearby tree. He should be grateful that the Pine’s kid hadn’t seen it. Despite the fact that it covered his shoes, splattered his pants and traveled up into his hair. 

The advantage of night he supposes.

With one last glance towards the shack he turns and walks back into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! This is coming out a lot later than it was suppose to. I've had it written up in my notebook for a while now, but when I type it up I basically re-write it.  
> Good news. I've already a good chunk into chapter 3!  
> Bad news. My classes wont be over till May.  
> Good news. I have no intention on leaving this fic unfinished it just may take a while.  
> Thank you for reading and thank you for your patience!


End file.
